"Hail, hail the gang's all here."
I cringed inwardly when I heard Renee Walcott's deceptively calm voice behind me.
"I thought you were off this case Dr. Cavanaugh; or am I mistaken Garret."
I knew Garret had gone out on a limb to call us in here. I had just begun to see how much.
Before I could speak Garret said "Believe it or not the world did not stop revolving sometime yesterday Renee. I have a morgue full of bodies that need attention...."
"And I suppose that's why you can take time out of your busy schedule to give dog and pony tours to suspended homicide detectives and officious bar owners. Stop blowing smoke up my ass Garret, it's getting old." With a snap of her fingers Renee called in a pair of burly uniformed officers. "Please escort these three off the premises, if you please."
I wasn't ready to leave yet. I knew Garret called us in there for more than a viewing. I had to think quickly. But once again, Garret beat me to the punch.
"Dr. Cavanaugh is here to pick up some health insurance forms from my office. If the Commonwealth used an insurance company that had automatic filing this would not be an issue."
He turned to me and looked me square into the eyes. "You'll find them sitting next to some case files on the left side of my desk."
I knew he wanted me to look at the folders. He turned back to Renee and asked her to follow him to Trace mumbling something about the bullet that killed Cahill.
"Can I go get them? Promise I'll be good." I crossed my heart and gave the bigger of the two Neanderthals a sugary smile.
It must have worked because I was allowed to go in. I knew I only had a few moments. I saw the preliminary files on the two cases sitting on the edge of Garret's desk. This had to be what he was hinting about. I knew I'd probably catch hell for this later but I slipped them up under the oversized sweatshirt I was wearing. I look down and notice the sweatshirt didn't quite disguise them. I came out of the room clutching my stomach. It wasn't too far of a stretch. The hang over I felt coming on from evening before was rearing its ugly head.
"Ah... thank you. I think I need to go...Dad, I'm not feeling well. I need some air..."
I had to bite my lip when I noticed the concerned look on Woody's face. But I really didn't need one of Renee's watch dogs to close to me. I was relived when Garret winked at me from the door to Trace as we stepped up to the elevator. He knew what I had done. If he didn't, I could at least assume he would cover for the missing reports.
"Jordan, do we need to get you back to the hospital?" Woody said.
"No, I'll be fine." I looked over at our escorts who were keeping a wide berth away from me. I gagged a few times to make sure they kept their distance.
I kept the routine up until we were safely in Dad's car. Dad turned to me and held out his hand....waiting.
"Hand it over, Fingers..."
I knew I couldn't fool everybody. I just smiled and lifted the sweatshirt up pulling out the two manila files.
As I handed them over to Dad, Woody began "Oh shit, Jordan that doesn't look like an insurance form......They're the M.E. files on Malden and Cahill, aren't they? Don't tell you just stole them!"
"You said you wanted to be kept in the loop cowboy. This is it. If you don't like it there's the door....." I sat there holding my breath, hoping he would not call my bluff. I hated to admit it but I needed him, because frankly, I didn't know who I could count on anymore.
Woody just sat there for a moment. I could tell he was debating his options. Just when I thought he would reach for the door handle he said "There had better be some answers in there because I already feel the heat from Internal Affairs. I'm too fond of my ass to let them have a piece of it."
"They're just going to have to wait in line." Dad said looking up from the open files in his hand. "I'm not done with you from this morning Hoyt."
It was all I could do not to laugh out loud at the sudden paleness of Woody's face and the amused twinkle in Dad's eye.
I turned and looked out of the rear window and noticed our escorts where still standing on the corner. We needed to get out of there. "Ah, Dad.....Let's take a closer look at those files somewhere else. I'm afraid we may have company soon."
Dad looked up and saw the police officers beginning to step toward the car. He quickly stuffed the folders underneath the seat of the car. "Yes, I think a cup of coffee is in order." He started the car and soon we were pulling away from the morgue.
As we drove, I realized I had left my vehicle at Police Plaza the night before. I was pretty sure it would have been towed by now.
"I need to pick up my SUV, before they call Garret to come pick it up. He's got enough to deal with right now. I bet it's in the impound lot by now."
Dad nodded and turned the car heading toward the impound lot. Dad asked if Woody would mind picking it up for me. The way he asked didn't sound like a question but more of a command. Woody was only too willing to get out of the car. I got out and followed him to the sidewalk.
"Dad's only messing with you, you know."
He only smiled and reached for my hands instead of holding them he begun to carefully roll up the cuffs of the sweatshirt I was wearing; making sure the sleeves were the right length for my shorter arms. "I know he's only kidding, but he loves you very much. You scared the hell out of him last night and I don't think he's quite over it. Don't worry about your vehicle I know a guy that works here. You go with your father. I think he just needs to be alone with you for awhile."
I handed Woody the keys and made him promise that he'd come straight to the bar after he finished.
I got back into the car and watched as Woody walked through the gate of the impound lot.
Dad just chuckled and pulled away from the curb "He's a good kid Jordan...for a cop. He just worries too much about you. I think last night took ten years off his life."
I felt slightly guilty having been caught mooning over Woody's retreating figure, I turned and looked out at the oncoming traffic. "He just said the same thing about you."
"We all had a rough day yesterday Jordan....So it's coffee and then what?"
"I guess it's too much to expect that the IAD files are still at the bar."
He voice became suddenly serious. "Jordan, I meant do I take you home with me or are you going back over to Woody's? This madness needs to stop here and now. There are two people dead in the last 24 hours. I can't chance that you'll be next."
"Dad, that's the point...everyone connected to this, is dying. We don't know who could be next."
Dad let out a deep sigh as we pulled up to the bar. "I'm pretty sure the DA has cleaned the place out last night. There really wasn't much in there that I haven't read a thousand times. Except those phone records, but they were pretty standard...."
"Then I guess we are just going to have to piece it all together."
"I still don't like this Jordan...."
"I didn't ask you to..... I just not only put myself on the line for those files, but my boss as well. So, hand them over." He reluctantly pulled them out from under the seat and handed them to me. I could see he was hoping I would let it go. But I was far from it.
The short walk inside was silent. Once inside, Dad began to start the coffee. I grabbed a seat at he bar looking over at the pool table to verify that indeed the place was cleaned out. The loud clang of the coffee being slammed into the coffee maker made me turn my attention back to my father.
"Dad, its only glass...take it easy."
"Jordan these are dangerous people. You could have been killed last night and now you are thinking of stepping feet first into this...mess. I don't like it. I don't like it at all."
"So, you've said repeatedly. I just want to know how Patrick Cahill wound up dead in front of the morgue and who tried to tamper with Malden's body." I wanted to add 'and how it all fits in this mystery' but I knew he would totally shut me then.
I began to look closely at both reports. I was relieved to notice that the ballistics report on the slugs taken from Malden's body showed that it couldn't possibly be Dad's gun that shot him. But the further I dug into the folder I noticed a copy of Dad's statement to the DA and a police evidence report that cleared him....not a piece of information usually found in a coroner's report. I became curious.
I laughed out loud when I read the hand written note printed in small, hurried letters on the margin...
---I'm sorry about yesterday. I hope this helps make up for it...Nige---
"What is it honey?"
"Nigel somehow got copies of the police and the DA's reports."
I flipped through both files quickly and noticed he had them for both cases. Nigel had even somehow scored a copy of the police report from this morning.
"Wonderful" Dad said with a bit of sarcasm. I started to reassure him but was stopped when the bell over the door rang as Woody stepped in.
Woody's eyes took note of the bar top strewn with papers. He tossed me the keys and said "I hope this is it. Because if I'm going to be spending the next 10 to 15 with a guy named Bubba I hope it's worth it."
At least Woody was on board. Hopefully Dad would come around.
"Yes farm boy....it's worth it." I show him the police report on Malden. He looked shocked as he read the note from Nigel.
"Damn, make that 15 to 20...Jordan, how did he get this stuff? No, I don't want to know. But now that we have it where do we go from here?"
I looked through the papers on Cahill for a second time. The information we needed had to be there; but it wasn't standing out.
"I know Nigel was trying to help but there is nothing here that we didn't already know. It says here that Cahill died of a single shot to the head. Was he was probably killed before he got to the morgue. Woody, take a look at this" I hand him the Cahill file. "Tell me if you can make hands or tails if they found Malden's car."
He takes a look at the police report from that morning. It was a photocopy of the handwritten report. After a moment he tossed it on the counter. "It doesn't say...at least we can assume it wasn't at the scene or they would have said so."
Dad set a freshly brewed cup of coffee in front of me and said "Whoever killed Cahill probably ditched the car earlier to get rid of any evidence."
I looked up to see Woody finish doctoring up his coffee. He pulled the report closer to him and looked at it again. I could almost feel his mind working. "There are thousands of places to hide a car in this city not to mention the bay." He left his coffee sitting at the bar as he walked across the room with the report in his hand.
While he paced with Cahill's file I took another look at Malden's. Why was someone like Patrick Cahill, Malden's driver? He was a powerful man. Not someone who would be a lackey for a crooked cop. There had to be a bigger story here.
"I'm at a loss. Who killed Cahill? And why was he even there? And on top of it, who would want to mess with Malden's body?" I laid my head on the bar. My headache was coming back.
I heard Woody's voice standing next to me. I looked up as he said "There are way too many variables here.... I think it's time to think outside the box."
Of course! The Game. It would work, it had to. The look on Dad's face told he had come to the same conclusion. Only he didn't seem to keen about it.
"No, no" Dad began to grab at the random papers on the bar. "This has gone on far enough."
"Please..." I begged him.
He looked at the papers clutched in his hands and said "If we do this, you leave it alone Jordan. I won't take 'no' for an answer. Kevin Cahill is a dangerous man. He will take care of this in his own way..."
I didn't know what I was going to do with any of this. But I told him what he wanted to hear.
Woody took a seat next to me and said "Where do we start?"
"Let's start with Malden. Woody you be Malden. I'll be...damn...I'll be myself."
"Jordan" Dad said in half question and half warning.
"It's ok, I can handle it" I sat the file back down on the bar, I stared at a light fixture across the room. It was hard to concentrate. My memories of last night were like snapshots that someone had thrown in the air and they landed all mixed up. When talking to Eddie last night it all felt fresh, but now it was like trying to remember something from years ago. I had to fight to find a place to start.
"After Malden told me that he had drugged me, I tried to fight it, but he kept on telling me that everything would be alright. He only wanted to help James. I couldn't help it.... I gave in."
"Did you then leave for your apartment?"
Things were getting clearer. "No... He....made a phone call...it was rushed. He was nervous. He was talking about taking care of something."
"Who was he calling Jordan?" Dad asked
"I don't know...he told whoever it was....to meet him downstairs."
"Patrick Cahill. I was calling Cahill to tell him that we had a lead on James." I could see Woody had begun to get lost in his role. He stood up and began to pace.
"He put me in the back of his car and we waited a few minutes...Malden throw my bag and cell phone into the front seat. I couldn't reach it. I needed to warn James. Malden paced back and forth looking at his watch. Patrick Cahill showed up. They got in the front seat ...Cahill took the wheel. They began to talk like I wasn't even there."
"What did they say?"
"They argued over James and....me. Cahill said he wanted this all to end tonight. It was all a trap. Malden wasn't going to help James...."
".....I was going to deliver him to Cahill." Woody finished my thought. "I was going to bring James out to the car. I had Jordan too... We could get rid of both of them in one step..."
"But that doesn't explain why Jordan was in the apartment." Dad bit out. I could tell the direction this dialog had taken was getting to him. I placed a hand on his to reassure him that I was alright.
"He knew James wouldn't just open the door to a stranger. He used me to get James to let down his guard. But James was not that naive. He didn't open the door. Malden took my keys and opened it himself....."
"James was hiding...somewhere inside. I called out to him...somehow I had to get him to come out into the open. I told him that I was there to help. I could get him safely out of the country." Woody said from the opposite side of the room.
"Yes, but I yelled out that it was a trick, James came out from the alcove anyway.... holding a gun, telling Malden to let me go."
"I pulled my gun and tried to tell him that you didn't know what you were talking about. You were not in your right mind...you were ill... I tried to get James to drop his gun...."
"They argued. Malden took aim. But James fired. He told me to run...that he would not let anything happen to me... I ran to the bathroom and tried to make myself as small as possible. I think.... that's when I heard your voice Dad."
I looked up at my father who had been so silent for the last few minutes. He gripped my hand harder and looked me in the eye. "Damn it Jordan, it was bad enough to walk into a scene in your apartment where James was holding a gun on a mortally injured Malden but now to know there was a killer waiting downstairs for you."
Woody sat back down next to me and picked up Malden's file. He picked up his coffee and took a sip I could tell he was taking a break from the game. "We know Malden was dead and James escaped out into the hallway. He must have grabbed Malden's gun because here was no sign of it at the loft or on his body."
I looked up to see Woody absent mindedly rub the back of his head. Things were getting stretchy for me from that point on.
"Why did Cahill leave the scene?" Dad asked. "If he were waiting for Malden to return with James and Jordan...."
"Maybe he heard the shots and just left." I said
"No...no" Woody said falling back into the routine. "Cahill was waiting to make sure his plan worked. I wasn't there to bring James out. I could have easily just taken your keys and let myself in. I didn't need you to go with me. Dispatch knew I was taking you home. I had an alibi to be in your apartment. Cahill said he wanted both of you together....to wait for Max. I was there to make sure all three of you were died. To make it looked like Max and James killed each other and Jordan just got caught in the crossfire."
"But how did you know to come to the apartment Dad?"
"I got a phone call....the caller said James was in your apartment and threatening you. It had to be Patrick Cahill or, even Malden himself, who called....."
"But that still doesn't explain why he was found died in front of the morgue this morning! Patrick Cahill was a powerful man...why did he even need to be there last night? I'm sure there is someone in his father's organization that could have handled those details." My frustration was adding to the headache I already had.
We debated and theorized, never quite filling in the blanks. The Game was getting us nowhere.
When Dad turned on the lights, I looked up at the clock above the bar and noticed how much time had passed. It felt like we had been at it for days but in actuality it had only been a couple of hours. The skies were growing dark with an up coming storm. It was almost like Mother Nature felt what I was feeling. We took a break to regroup and order some sandwiches form the deli down the street. We adjourned to a back table with a couple of beers. Dad had left the 'closed' sign upon the door.
"Jordan I wish you would eat something"
"I'm fine Dad"
"When was the last time you ate?"
"You made me a bagel this morning..."
"Which you left on the counter" Woody added.
"I'll get something later....I promise...now where were we?"
He had just finished rereading Cahill's file. "Let's look at the details. He was shot in the head, single shot to the forehead. Not exactly execution style."
"I don't think Kevin Cahill would put a hit out on his own son..." I said.
"Someone else...Cahill has powerful enemies..." Blackie Conroy came to mind. For years each man waited for the other to make a mistake....
"But it would explain why the preliminary coroner's report states that Cahill was probably killed elsewhere and dumped at the site."
"No Jordan, you said the call Malden made to Cahill was rushed. There was no way Cahill could know he was going to be sitting out in front of Jordan's building let alone some rival."
"But why was he even personally involved?"
"It was personal...it had to do with something that involved the three of you; Jeffers, Malden....and you Max." Woody looked up from his beer. "The missing two hundred thousand dollars....he was doing this as a vendetta for his father."
I wanted to ask what two hundred thousand as I watched Woody and Dad debate for a few minutes and then I picked up the police report on Cahill.
"And I bet this all ties into Jordan finding the car with Jeffers in the trunk. It had always bothered me how a car can go for years and nobody checks the spare tire."
"James told me that he hid the car in a warehouse....."
"I'd bet this bar that Cahill made sure that that body was left sitting right there to keep Malden in line. Cahill used James killing Jeffers' to blackmail Malden ...he had a habit of.....keeping people in line through intimidation... especially through the people around them."
I was taken back. I whispered to my father, "Is that how he kept you in line Dad? With threats on me?" He didn't say anything. He didn't have to; the look on his face said it all. I glanced over at Woody making sure he hadn't caught any of that. I had a sinking feeling he would do something foolish. He would put on his red cape and try to make it alright....and frankly; I'm not worth that risk.
"I wonder if Malden had become a liability to the organization in someway. And they decided to get Jeffers out of mothballs....Jordan, who called you about finding the car." Woody said looking up from the D.A.'s report on the Ford Fairlane.
"I don't know. He said he was the P.I. I hired last year...when I got the key." And then it hit me.... "Cahill set me up....You're right, somehow Malden had become dispensable. Cahill gathered all his ducks in a row. He needed someone to set all of this into motion a way to clean up after Malden; someone outside of the organization...someone like a questionable cop's daughter. And I jumped at it."
"Honey, it wasn't your fault...."
I could feel my blood pressure begin to rise, but I couldn't think of the implications of that phone call right now. We were so close to all the answers... I could feel it. "I still don't understand how this all ties into Patrick Cahill being propped up in the front door of the morgue and Malden's body disturbed if they were not sending out a message to his father's organization?"
"Maybe Malden figured out that to hit was on him and had someone in the wings to take care of Patrick Cahill, placing the killer at the scene. Malden would later say that James and Cahill were working together and waiting in your apartment get rid of you and Max? But the plan back fired when Malden was shot. ....."
Dad got that far away look on his face that usually signaled he was on to something. "No Malden didn't have help.... He never realized that he was a target.... Patrick Cahill's killer just saw an opportunity to get rid of a body on his way to the morgue, or maybe even use it as a distraction to keep people busy while he went to the Crypt...to just view Malden's body....It was James. He was at the morgue. The security guard said the man he chased down the stairwell was dark haired. James wanted some kind of closure."
I was not hearing this. James could not kill a man in cold blood just for closure.
Woody asked the question that was on the tip of my tongue "So how does that explain why James would kill Cahill? He could have created some other kind of distraction other then killing a man."
"Cahill was waiting outside for one of us to escape. I bet James just walked right up to him. Either James "forced" Cahill to take him away or Cahill offered to help him escape. Cahill was driving somewhere to get rid of James. James realized it was a trap and killed him."
No, this couldn't be. James couldn't be involved with another murder. This time it was a very powerful, deadly man's son. He not only had the police after him, now he had the mob. And all just to protect me. And I just crouched in the bathroom letting it happen. I had begun to feel myself implode. I barely heard Woody when he spoke.
"Where's James now?"
I couldn't take it anymore. I stood quickly from the table.
"Jordan...Jordan what are you going to do? Honey, don't do anything stupid....." Dad said trying to grab my hand.
I pulled my arm away. "No....."
I turned and ran out of the front door. The rain had just begun. It was powerful and cold, but I didn't feel it. I had to get away. I needed to think this out. I reached into my pocket and felt the keys Woody had tossed me earlier. When I heard him yelling my name I quickly ran to my SUV. I didn't need to hear one of his sunny optimistic speeches at that moment. I just needed some time alone. I was already driving down the street when I saw him standing on the curb waving his arms wildly. Part of me wanted to just turn around and find an escape in those arms but I couldn't drag him into my private hell. I drove aimlessly through the city not quite knowing were I'd end up. It would be so easy to confront Kevin Cahill. I split my time between cursing him and berating my own stupidity. Was it true? Was Cahill behind everything? Could he even be behind my mother's death?
Without thinking I pulled into a familiar gate. It was oddly comforting driving through the twisted paths. When I reached the end of the path I parked. I stepped out into the pouring rain and walked over to my mother gravestone. It was still light enough to read the engraving. I carefully traced my finger through the letters over and over. I needed to be close to her at that moment. I was afraid of the dark, dangerous thoughts going through my head. I just needed to shut them off. I lie down next to the grave and let the rain wash away my tears.
I don't know how long I laid there waiting for a lightning bolt to strike me dead. The rain never let up and pooled around me. At first I heard the car pull up. I didn't open my eyes until I heard the passenger door of Dad's car open. Woody was there calling my name. I closed my eyes again wishing I could make him disappear. But it didn't work. I should have never dragged him it to this; I should have never even dragged him into my life. Within seconds he was kneeling on the ground next to me.
"Jordan? It's me, I'm right here...Jordan, please say something...."
